


Blank and Empty

by Storm_Clouds_and_Starshine



Series: the suffering won't fade (just because time's past) [1]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Tamers
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, I have no idea what to tag this uhh, Memory Loss, Pre-Canon, getting whisked off to a different worldTM, moooostly?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm_Clouds_and_Starshine/pseuds/Storm_Clouds_and_Starshine
Summary: Ryou does not know many things. No, he does notremembermany things.He does not remember many things. What he had been doing, where he had gone. Who he had been, before.Memory loss is such a terrible thing, is it not?
Relationships: Akiyama Ryou | Ryo Akiyama & Cyberdramon (Tamers)
Series: the suffering won't fade (just because time's past) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932964
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Blank and Empty

**Author's Note:**

> hi i have Feelings about ryou. he mentions in tamers that he doesn't remember much - did his mind just throw out?? all the stuff that happened to him in the wonderswan games?? because of how traumatic it was?? that's really dark, someone hug him??

Ryou could not remember anything.

  
  


No, that was a lie.

  
  


He could remember some things. Numbers. Words. How to talk, how to move, what foods he liked eating and what foods he didn’t. Feeling sad when it rained because he was stuck inside alone, melancholy dripping through his bones. Feeling tired, tired and tired and so so tired. He didn’t remember  _ why _ he was tired, only that he was tired.

  
  


Ryou could not remember  _ most _ things, then. 

  
  


The doctors had said that it was amnesia - caused by a head injury, or trauma, or both. He wasn’t sure what could have happened to him to cause one or both of those things, and asking anyone didn’t get him any answers - he’d disappeared for two months, and returned with most of his memories gone. His father was stressed, angry but the worried kind of angry and mouth always set in a thin line as if he was trying to hold back words that he knew would hurt Ryou. His mother only looked at him, sadly, eyes filled with so so much sadness and confusion and regret.

  
  


He should have felt more . . . connected? To his parents, but he . . . didn’t. He felt bad about it - no, he felt bad about  _ not _ feeling bad about it. When he’d woken up on the hospital bed they’d asked him what he remembered, if he knew where he was, if he knew who he was. Ryou didn’t know his parents. He barely knew himself, his name only a vague memory in his head, and they - they looked at him with so much regret in their eyes -

  
  


It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had these  _ holes _ in his  _ head _ \- all that time, everything he  _ couldn’t remember _ , and he hated it. Ryou  _ hated _ it. Thirteen years, he was thirteen years old and he remembered almost none of anything. . . he really did wonder what he had gone through, sometimes, just to lose so much of himself. No one said anything or pointed fingers, but he’d done a little sneaking around - not anything much, just a little! - and he’d figured out how to read between the lines and see and hear the things people weren’t saying, and, well - not everything was as pretty as people wanted it to be. He’d figured out that at some point Ryou’s parents had gotten into a fight - he couldn’t remember what it was, and no one would mention it at all, but it must have been bad enough, because from what he’d heard and the pieces he  _ had _ , Ryou must have been upset at the fighting and ran away. He’d ran away, and gotten - gotten kidnapped or something, been through something traumatic. No one had seen him for two months, and then Ryou just appeared back in Hataka, amnesiac and with all of the bruises and scrapes and smaller cuts on him that all bled red. His clothes were torn, some areas more shredded than others, and he’d wandered for some bit before someone noticed and called the police. Or his parents. Ryou didn’t remember that too well.

  
  


He’d been speaking with a slurred accent, they said,, something not-quite-intelligible, some mix of Hataka dialect and the Tokyo dialect. His right arm had been injured, more than the rest of him, the muscles weak and two long gashes that ran down the forearm. He didn’t notice it hurting until a while later, but it did hurt. . . he’d need to work to get his hand back in better health, the doctors said, because if he didn’t then his arm wouldn’t ever get back to the same level of dexterity and strength. They said that there had been a lot of shrapnel in the arm, and they’d had to pull all the pieces out, and that that was why there were bandages on his right forearm for longer than the rest of him. Stitches and a small little network of lines that were scars, and they’d found him with an injury like that. . . 

  
  


They’d found him, though. Injured, amnesiac, and apparently tired and hurting and starving and parched, but they’d found him. He’d mumbled something about “dragons” and “leaving”, apparently. He had no idea what he could have been talking about, nor did anyone else, but. . . at least he was home? For some reason Ryou had been surprised to be in Kyushu, in Fukaoka, but only a few seconds later did he wonder where he could have been anywhere else. He lived in Fukaoka with his parents, didn’t he? Even if he didn’t remember, it wasn’t like he’d made up some story to keep himself sane, right? Even if he’d gone through some trauma, it wasn’t like it was something ridiculously bad, right?

  
  


At least he was home.  ~~ Right? ~~

  
  


Ryou tried to get into the schoolwork and things he had been absent from, tried to do his best. For his parents, for everyone who was expecting him to do so. For himself? Ryou didn’t know. Some of the schoolwork was easy. Some of it was a lot harder. What was easy and what was hard had no pattern or reason that Ryou could tell. It frustrated him, being able to do some bits but not remembering others, and not even remembering  _ how _ he knew how to do some parts. He knew his amnesia was probably frustrating his parents too. At least it was summer - at least there wasn’t as much work.

  
  


There was a card game, “Digital Monsters” they called it. “Digimon” for short. Ryou had played the game some, before - before. He found he enjoyed the game. It was something he  _ could _ remember, something he knew from his past. It wasn’t schoolwork, but at least it was something. He wasn’t sure what his parents thought, but Ryou had skill and he threw himself into the game when he had free time inbetween getting caught up on missed work and between his parents insisting that he rest to better heal his various injuries. He played the card game, and he played the card game well.

  
  


Ryou entered tournaments. He didn’t pay attention to everything that had happened, but he knew that he was having fun, and that he had managed to climb his way up the rankings through skill or sheer luck alone. There were other people there, some younger than him, some older. He remembered the last fight somewhat better than the others, because his opponent was a girl who couldn’t have been older than ten, red hair with blonde streaks and a glare that made him wonder what he’d done to make her mad at him so, with skills that were frighteningly good for the young age. She’d almost beat Ryou, too, but he’d managed to win somehow. It was a close call, but Ryou had won. He didn’t remember  _ what _ he’d won, or if he’d won anything other than bragging rights.

  
  


He did remember that after that, later that night - he heard a voice, calling to him. It called to him, it said  _ Ryou, Ryou, Ryou _ and Ryou knew the voice was familiar, somehow. He’d not gone to bed yet, still staying at the hotel his parents had gotten for the three of them to stay in while they were in Ueno, so he’d thrown on his jacket over his shirt and pants and gone to wherever the voice called him. He’d been halfway there when he remembered the cards still in his pockets, but - it should be fine. He’d just be gone for a little bit, right? No need to worry. Just for a little bit. 

  
  


There was a field, an area covered in fog that Ryou didn’t think was there before. He couldn’t see well, but he thought there was someone there. Someone, something, someone or -thing in the foggy area. . . their silhouette was kinda like a dragon. Probably a something then. Not real. A hallucination? Or they  _ were _ real and he was doubting his eyes? Or a hallucination.

  
  


“ _ Ryou _ _._ ” They said. “ _ Ryou, come with me. _ ” 

  
  


“ _ Why _ _?_ ” He asked, because  _ why _ ? What did he have that they wanted?

  
  


“ _ I want to become stronger. You’re the strongest. You can make me stronger. _ ”

  
  


“ _ I can do that? _ ”

  
  


“ _ Yes _ _._ ” They moved forwards, but slowly, like there was something weighing them down. “ _ I can’t come through the digital field. _ ” They said, and the closer the got the more Ryou felt like he should know them, somehow. “ _ You have to come through to my side. I can’t go to yours. _ ”

  
  


“ _ Why should I _ _?_ ” Ryou asked. “ _ Why should I make you stronger _ _?_ ”

  
  


They were quiet. For a few moments, they were quiet, and the fog swirled and shifted. “ _ If I am stronger, I can evolve. You as my tamer will make me evolve. _ ” There was an almost longing in their voice, though Ryou didn’t know what it was for. “ _ Come through to my side, Ryou. Come to me. Help me be stronger. You won’t have to pretend. _ ”

  
  


The fog swirled more. “ _ We’re running out of time. _ ” the dragon-figure said. Ryou couldn’t identify the emotions in their voice. “ _ Come, Ryou. Now or never again. _ ”

  
  


Faced with a choice like that. . . well, they were a Digimon, from how they talked. And Ryou couldn’t help but want to know more, want to see what and who this Digimon was, want to forget about the holes in his memory and the stressful confusing world of getting back into a life that was somewhat normal. Ryou walked through the fog, and didn’t look behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> huzzah. are you sad now about ryou? i still am. cyberdramon and ryou are both probably super OOC oops


End file.
